Buttons
by Chloe Veverka
Summary: All she wanted was to get her homework done. But who can get work done with Fred as a distraction? Especially when said Fred does damage to one's clothing? Written for the Smutty Quote Challenge. FW/AJ.


Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_. I just love it so. Thanks J.K. Rowling!

**Buttons**

_She really couldn't remember what had started this otherwise ordinary exchange of theirs. They had at least one every day; it came with the wonderfully dysfunctional nature of their friendship. …Relationship. …Friendship._

_His hand reminded her to refrain from focusing her attention elsewhere._

_But what had it been? She had been working on homework not too long beforehand, commandeering the Room of Requirement at an absurdly late hour, fixating on the multitude of writing still left to her._

_His mouth reminded her to refrain from focusing her attention elsewhere._

_Ah yes._

_It had started with that blasted stain._

He had startled her upon his entrance into the Room, having spent the night gallivanting with George and Lee elsewhere in Hogwarts. She was surprised to see him. He was not surprised to see her.

"What're you doing here, Fred?" she asked, setting down her pen.

"Looking for you," he said matter-of-factly.

"How'd you know where I'd be?"

"Well, that's easy, my dear," he replied, walking casually to her while stretching out the tension in his body. Too tired to care, she didn't hide the fact that she was watching his body's movements with intrigue. "When I couldn't find you in the Gryffindor House, I thought to myself, 'Where might I find a stunningly glorious Angel if I was her, trying to avoid the havoc of this institution's insanity?' Upon this introspective inquiry…"

"Wow…You've been digging around Hermione's dictionaries, haven't you?" she teased.

He ignored her and continued, "…I figured said Angel might be hiding in plain sight, finding a place with the required study-inducing environment."

"And required seclusion," she added, realizing just how quiet the room was before his discovery.

He pulled the handy second chair right next to hers at the conveniently large table for her dispersed resources. She could smell various sorts of chemicals on his clothes, no doubt the result of him and the other lads' experimental actions of the night. She loved it when he smelled of magical mischief; especially when that mischief hadn't been used on her.

She boldly stared into his eyes and responded, deadpanned, "You used the Marauder's Map, didn't you?"

He sighed. "Beautiful _and_ brilliant. Annoyingly so," he added with a smirk.

"Part of my charm, you know."

"Oh yes, yes I do know."

He was in a flirty mood tonight. She could spar.

"So why were you looking for me? You know I've got to finish this mess."

"Yes, but I also know that you've been working way too long on this and probably need a study break."

"Fred." Her warning voice.

"Angie." His counteractive pleading-yet-irresistible voice.

_He did that move again, the one that included biting her neck while touching that really sensitive part along her thigh. It involuntarily made her arch against him. His moan almost shook her from her reminiscence of not too long ago. _

"You know I can't afford to do poorly on this one. I'm already in slight trouble."

"And you know, Angie, that you tend to over-exaggerate with grades. You're quite smart."

She sighed, rolling up the sleeves of her cardigan. She had come straight to the Room with full uniform on—blouse, tie, cardigan, skirt, etc. Forgetting just how resourceful the Room was, she instantly took notice of the atmosphere's rising temperature; she really didn't need her sweater, but would keep it on until Fred left.

"Come now, Angie, how long have you been at it?"

"A few hours."

He rolled up his own sleeves. She hated when he did that. It was a look that typically got him his way. "So why not take a break?"

"Fred."

"Take a breather and let me read what you've got, then." His hand reached to grasp the scroll.

"Fred, I'd rather that you didn't." She grabbed his hand on the scroll, stilling it from leaving the table.

"Come on, Ange." He tried to pull the scroll towards him.

"I'm good, thanks anyway," she insisted, pulling it towards her.

Of course the ink bottle was conveniently rooted between them. Of course their tug-of-war game caught the bottle against its side, rocketing it off center to splatter across Angelina.

The game stopped, both parties frozen.

Angelina immediately stood to avoid the ink dripping off the table's edge.

"Oh Merlin's beard," Fred muttered to himself. "I'm so sorry, Ange."

"S'alright, Fred. Really. My scroll is saved and that's all that matters to me at this point," she allayed, shaking her limbs in a futile attempt to remove the ink from her skin. Sighing, she began to unbutton her cardigan. Her fingers on the buttons obviously caught Fred's attention.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Getting this off so I can see what sort of damage you did to my blouse," she rationalized.

"You could just use magic, you know," he reminded. She paused her motions, staring at her buttons to avoid his eyes as she felt that familiar blush rise. Magic. Right. He stood to gently shoo her hands away, continuing her task.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused and frustrated at the brighter flush flaring up.

"Wishing I didn't have such a big mouth," he muttered to himself. His eyes found hers and he smirked. "I'm helping you, of course."

"Of course you are," she repeated, rolling her eyes.

"You know, you're acting awfully calm considering I got you so messy."

"You've done worse. Much worse."

"Fancy I've never 'helped' you before, though."

"In those moments, I think I made it an immediate priority to wreak instant retaliation for the damage caused."

"And now?"

"Now I'm too tired to care at the immediate moment."

"Lucky me." Unbuttoned, Fred's blue eyes met her brown ones as he slid the cardigan off of her shoulders and down from her arms, moving closer to her to push the garment off. His eyes were smoldering. Her breath was hitching.

_Dipping his head to her bra-covered chest, his lips placed teasing kisses across her cleavage in slow agony. Her fingers, swimming in his locks, spurred him on._

Bad news for the paper, she thought.

"So how are you going to help me?" she asked.

"Let me try something," Fred offered, pulling out his wand. Angelina's eyebrow instantly rose.

"Those words from your mouth rarely result in anything positive."

"Trust me, this will be positive." Her blouse already untucked, he reached for the last button and undid it.

"Fred…" her voice warning.

"Think positively."

Another button.

Her eyes moved from his fingers on her shirt, his fingers moving dangerously close to her evolving exposed skin, to his eyes steadied on his work, or her skin, she couldn't tell.

Another button.

"And there's the button I'm looking for," he muttered softly when her navel came into view.

"What are you…" she began before he poked her with the tip of his wand. Before she could say another word, however, Fred had begun a soft spell she didn't know. And just as suddenly, she felt a ticklish-yet-not-unpleasant-at-all feeling start against her belly button and spread throughout her. She closed her eyes, unnerved by the sensation. It was over much too quickly, and when she felt that feeling leave her body, she was further unnerved by the soft yet heavy panting that she couldn't control emerging from her. Looking down, she discovered that she was ink-free.

"No damage," Fred managed with a half grin, removing his wand from her skin.

"Impressive, as always," she added with a sincere returning grin. Her grin turned into her irresistible pout as she rubbed her stomach. "You didn't have to poke it in so hard…"

"I figured you could handle it." Smirk.

"What made you think so?" she asked, scanning her body for any missed areas.

"You'd 'wreak immediate retaliation' otherwise. You haven't yet, so I must be in good shape."

"All that positive thinking. Fred, what did you do to me?"

"Just a new cleaning spell I came up with."

"But it tingles."

"Really? Where?" he asked, his voice taking on concern for her welfare as he searched for side effects.

She shook her head and pointed at her belly button. "Here."

He stopped scanning, his eyes falling to the cute little button. Those baby blues wandered the expanse of skin under her shirt. He ran the tip of his forefinger around the navel, initiating an instant shutter from her. "Here?"

"Yes, prat, and that doesn't help," she added, trying to glare at him.

"Anywhere else?"

"My back. It's like a straight shot from my belly button," she described, reaching around to touch where she felt the phantom magic. Fred's arm followed suit, reaching around to run along the small of her back.

"Around here?" he asked, suddenly almost hugging her while trapping her arm behind her.

"Yes, around there," she repeated, feeling the sensation return when his finger played along her skin. "Fred…" her voice warned.

"Angie?" he returned.

"What're you doing?"

"Making sure there are no side effects. New contact-based spells like this can result in issues if not careful."

"Oh," she replied as the single finger on her back turned into fingers. "Is that what you're doing."

"Just looking out for you. Can you feel this?" he asked while pressing his lips against her cheek. Her eyes closed. She nodded. "Good, how about this?" His lips traveled to her temple. She could smell him stronger, being so much closer.

"Yes," she affirmed.

"Good, how about here," he asked before running his mouth along her ear. She nodded.

"But Fred?"

"Or here," he asked breathily, kissing her racing pulse on her neck.

"Oh yes, sensations normal there. But Fred," she began again, feeling his other hand pull her hair away for better neck access.

"Yes, Angel?"

"You did miss a spot," she confessed. He pulled away from her neck to look into her face.

"What? Where?" he asked, confused. She used the moment to gain control of her arm again. Reaching down near the blouse's edge, she pointed at a distinct ink splatter on the white material. It was very small.

She looked up at him. "You're gonna have to pay for that, you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd say that. But right now, maybe we should remove that, too. Only to be consistent, what with having removed the sweater and all," Fred suggested, undoing another blouse button. Angie stilled his hands, pulling them into her own as she stepped closer into him. She rested his hands on her hips.

"Hmm, maybe you should finish your scan for spell effects," licking her lips subconsciously. His eyes followed her mind's play.

"Right. Where was I?"

Her eyebrow quirked.

He smiled.

"Right. Smart lass."

His lips instantly found hers. And although she expected the soft yet firmness of his kiss, she didn't expect how quickly he could steal her breath. He was warm and hot, building a fire across her mouth and over her skin; and there were his fingers again, playing drawing games on her back. On their own accord, her fingers found their way into his fiery hair, pulling him against the supple enticement of her full lips. After all, he had said he'd do a full check-up for her safety.

Reluctantly, Fred broke the kiss for fear that they would both hyperventilate. "Could you feel that?" he inquired, his voice noticeably husky.

"Do you really have to ask?" she countered.

"No, but it's nice to know, Angel," he replied, running his palm across her flat stomach. Still feeling the effects of his spell, his full-on touch created sparks like a sword dragged across concrete. He was calling for battle. She was ready to fight. She pulled him haughtily against her, tugging him into another kiss.

While the first one had been passionate yet restrained, tugging on the loose end of a sweater, this kiss was growing more and more heated, unraveling the whole damn clothing. Her tongue ran lightly against his mouth, providing the password to gain entrance. She loved his soft groan as his tongue greeted hers; she really loved how one of his hands was deeply rooted in her own hair, insistent in keeping the kiss going. And there his other hand was, right back at her shirt.

"Fred."

"Bloody hell, Angel, it's got a stain on it," he growled against her mouth. And in one sudden jerk, Angelina could feel tension as Fred proceeded to rip the shirt open, sending buttons scattering in soft tinkles across the floor. Angelina gasped only to laugh.

"Fred!"

"Sorry, that was uncalled for," he apologized while placing kisses all over her face. "Should've used magic."

"Yes…Yes you should've," she responded, following his lead as he turned them around, moving her onto the table's edge. He had enough foresight to use two quick spells; one to clean up the leftover spilt ink, and the other to send her paper into a safe location so as not to be victimized. A good, far distance from the table. She smiled at his thoughtfulness.

"After all, that's what we're here for," he added.

"Where's here?" she asked, not following as he leaned forward to help her remove her shirt, she distracted by his mouth running along her neck again.

He paused, smiling while he dropped her shirt onto the ground. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, of course."

She nodded, breathless. "Oh. Right. Carry on."

"Thank you," he commended before pressing his lips to hers again. She barely had time to register that she was now only clad in a bra and skirt, being lowered backward onto the table. She was too engulfed in the way his hands felt wonderful sliding all over her skin. Especially there. And there. And, oh, there.

_Back to the present, where his kisses grew stronger against her throat, eliciting a soft moan from her as she gripped his hair tightly. _His body laid over hers, his own shirt having been removed during the course of his hands massaging her body. She had pulled his tie so that it acted as a headband for his bangs. He had smirked at her actions; "Smart lass" he had commended. The paper would have to wait. The ink stain could settle for all she bloody well cared. His skin was dancing across hers, making all the right moves, making her whimpers the melody of their movements. His own groans provided harmony.

"You're buying me a new shirt," she reminded him, breathless, her waist nestled against his, his arm holding onto her leg.

"Again with this?" he mumbled, kissing her swollen lips.

"Again," she insisted.

He moved. "Again?" he groaned into her ear.

"Again," she insisted, raspy.

He nodded. "Again."

He had her undivided attention for the rest of the night.

*******

**Written for the "Smutty Quote Challenge" **

**Quote:**** "**You didn't have to poke it in so hard."

Probably a one shot, but could possibly make into something longer. **Review please**!!


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